A Dance for Two
by Madisonne
Summary: When a pilot is injured on a mission, who will save him? Relationships are tricky things, especially when they are with your enemy. Warnings: (R for language and mild violence at beginning) Yaoi, angst (only a little!), sap
1. Commencing the Dance

A Dance for Two:

Commencing the Dance

By: Madisonne

Part: 1/? of 'A Dance for Two'

Warnings: Angst (only for a while), yaoi, sap

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing because if I did, I'd have a boy-friend! :-P! No infringement on the rights of the owners of said anime intended. Don't sue me, suing isn't nice. As for the fic, don't steal it! Criticism accepted (feed me feed-back at Fire_Elf_Rei@hotmail.com!!!), flames laughed at. 

Note: Please please PLEASE review!!!!!!! I know what I want to do with this, but I don't want to spend all my energy on it if no one likes it! ;-P!

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'Stupid...' That was the one word bouncing around and around in his head as he futilely searched for an exit. _Any_ escape... Yuy and those thrice-damned doctors would have a virtual field-day [1] of insulting him over _this_ one. His ideas, his skills as a fighter, his mental capabilities, all would the subject of endless ridicule. _If_ he made it out. And, right about now, that was sounding very doubtful, especially as another kick caused his breath to catch and tears to spring to his already tear-laden eyes and cheeks. 

"We should just kill the god damned bastard now..." The young man who'd just kicked him snarled.

"The audacity of it all, it's just sickening." A girl sneered, twisting a strand of his hair around her finger and pulling it to bring a small whimper of pain from the suffering form half-way collapsed to the floor.

Another boy about his age knelt down beside the trembling figure. "I think we're getting through to pretty boy here. Is the pain too much for you? Does it hurt when we do this?" He slammed the boy's head against the floor, but received no response. "Oh, tough guy now, are we? Well, how about a little of _this_?" He snapped his foot out to connect harshly with his much-abused stomach.

This time, he let out a strangled cry as he felt his already-broken rib rub back upon itself and against something else that must have been broken as well. 

If they hadn't caught him off-guard and cuffed him to the railing, they all would be dead by now and the training school would be blown to pieces [2]. As the blows rained down on him, he prayed that it would all be over soon.

All of the sudden, he heard the doors being kicked in and the sound of boots slapping against the same cold pavement he was lying half-prone on. 

"At attention, cadets!" A strong voice called out.

He saw the boys and girls snap to attention before his hair fell to obscure his vision.

"We just..." 

"No explanation is needed, Junior Cadet. I'm just grateful I happened to be making a visit to this training station."

"Sir, this man is both an impostor _and_ a traitor [3]!"

"I am quite aware of the danger, Junior Cadet. And I'm pretty sure my men can take care of him." The same man's voice intoned with no little under-tone of dry humour. "You are dismissed, Cadets."

He heard the slap of feet against the concrete as his ex-fellow students shuffled out of the room.

"Well, if it isn't a fearsome Gundam pilot." A different voice snarled.

"Merquise, please."

"But, sir, he killed..."

"That will be _all_ Lieutenant [4]!"

So, he ranked someone higher than a _lieutenant_... That made him feel perversely proud.

"The rest of you, get this man unchained."

Deciding to go for the unconscious victim approach, he closed his eyes quickly, before they could tell he was awake and quite alert. 

He felt the cuffs being fooled with, but to no avail. 

"God _damn_ it! Would someone _please_ explain to me why _I_ always have to do _everything_ around here?!!" The same high-ranking officer swore.

A single shot rang out and he collapsed to the floor entirely.

"You two, grab him. Let's get him out of here. And be _careful_, god damn it!"

"Yes, sir!" Two voices responded.

He felt himself being lifted up, then carried carefully. 

At last, they stopped in front of a rather elaborately decorated door. The "leader" stood for the retina test [5], then, the doors popped open.

The much-abused pilot was laid down gently on a warm, soft bed. The men saluted to their superior and left at his request.

"It doesn't look good, Zechs." The voice came from the other side of the door. "I think he's unconscious."

"Are you sure that having him in your rooms is the best idea?"

"Seeing as he's unconscious and badly wounded, I don't think he'll be causing any major catastrophes [ 6]."

"Why do you think he's here?" The voices drew closer.

"I don't know. Maybe he found out about the bombs."

He stiffened unconsciously. So they _were_ here...

"Do you think he was here to attempt an assassination?"

"There's no way he could have known I was going to be here. _And_, if he had wanted me dead _that_ badly, my head would have either been chopped off or blown to bits a long time ago."

"That's morbid..."

"But true."

"What are you going to do with him?"

"I don't know. I just hope his presence remains a little-known fact."

"But why keep him _here_? You could just hand him over to the troops..."

"No, they mustn't know here's here."

"Why the hell not?!!"

There was a pause. "He spared my life once. I must repay that debt. This could be my chance. He's already proven himself worthy."

"How?"

"The fact that he was able to even get _in_ our training corps says a hell of a lot." He sighed. "The truth is, he was one of the best cadets I've ever seen. And he was able to fool us all. He would never have been caught had those students not been in the restricted area."

"You knew all this?"

"I keep quite close tabs on things that interest me. You, of all people, should know that."

"But... You didn't stop him. He would know all about the bombs! Everything that this base had worked for would be for naught! Why...?"

"Would I do that?" He interrupted. "It's complicated. It really is." He sighed as he flopped into a chair. "I'm tired. Tired of fighting. With the knowledge of the bombs..."

"The war would be over. But we'd lose!"

"There are worse things than losing. Suffering, death... No, losing is far from the worst thing that could happen."

"You _do_ realize that you are quite insane, don't you?"

That drew a chuckle. "Perhaps I am Perhaps I am utterly, completely one hundred percent crazy..."

"He looks like he's in pain. We should call a doctor."

"No, I'll take care of it. You'd better leave."

"But..."

"I will be _fine_, thank you."

He heard the door whir open, then slam shut after the soldier.

"Good gods... What to do with him now."

Almost concurrently, the pungent odour of roses pierced his senses and the voice triggered a sensory memory in his brain. 'Dear holy Ramen noodles in a fucking paper bag...' [7] He thought in that explicitly out-of-character moment. 'It's Khushrenada...' Panic grabbed him with icy fingers and sent unconscious shivers down his back. 

"Let's just have a bit of a look-see, shall we?" The OZ leader proposed to the seemingly unconscious pilot.

He felt himself prodded and poked as the examination commenced and continued.

"Sad, really." He heaved a great sigh. "For one so young to have worry lines. No laugh lines, though. Can't say it's unfounded... There's not much to laugh at these days." He sighed again, then stood and walked away.

His footsteps returned moments later. Something unwieldy hit the floor next to the bed, a solid "thunk" resonating from its abuse.

He figured it to be a first-aid kit by the subsequent administration of disinfecting salve and various bandages by surprisingly gentle hands. Surely those could not belong to the man who had unabashedly killed thousands...

"You've got to wake up soon, Gundam pilot. You need better care than I can give." The footsteps receded.

After waiting two full minutes, calculated by the beating of his heart, the much-abused pilot opened his eyes slowly. Seeing that the OZ general was out of the room, he sat up experimentally, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

Moving stiffly, he managed to wince his way across the room to where his enemy kept his swords. He pulled one out and waited for the return of one of the most hated men in the universe.

* * * * * 

After taking what he felt to be a much-deserved bath, he pulled on fresh-pressed, loose-fitting grey trousers and a white under-shirt. His still-wet hair remained plastered to the back of his neck and his jaw.

He opened the door to his bedroom softly and very carefully shut it, the only sound a soft 'click' as he let the knob slide back into place.

"Khushrenada." The cold voice of his patient intoned.

He turned slowly to see a blade of a sword pointed at his throat and another with its hit towards him, both weapons in the white-knuckled grip of the Gundam pilot. "I really don't want to do this..."

His eyes remained resolute.

"At least... Just wait until you're better. Look, you don't look at all well. Why don't you just sit down and..."

"Fight, or die." He shoved the sword forward, nicking the OZ officer's throat.

He laughed richly. "No, you won't kill me."

"Do you presume...?"

"You have too much honour to kill an unarmed man, Wufei."

"God _damn_ you, Khushrenada! Just fight!"

Sighing deeply, he took the offered sword and snapped into a fighting stance.

Wufei bowed slightly.

Treize smiled ironically, swept both arms out wide and bowed his head slightly, and accepted the challenge.

The shorter man whirled into a frenzy of action, slicing (fortunately for his opponent) the air and clashing with the blade he'd forced on Treize.

Treize could sense that the boy's injuries were quickly wearing him out and fuelled his blocks and counter-offensives accordingly so as not to hurt him further.

All of the sudden, Wufei over-stepped a combination and fell to his hands and knees, his sword clattering to the floor and sliding just out of his reach.

He threw down his sword and fell to his knees beside the gasping pilot.

"Go away!!! God _damn_ you!" He growled while attempting to catch his breath. He yanked his arm away from his opponent's out-stretched hand. "Get away from me..." He sat back with his legs curled under him, effectively putting himself out of arm's reach.

He scooted over so that he was sitting next to the pilot. This time, when he put his hand on his arm, the limb wasn't jerked back. "Come on, now..." He spoke soothingly. "Let's just get you back into bed and you can sleep for a while, m'kay?"

Although Wufei _knew_ he shouldn't let his guard down around his enemy, his beat-up body refused him any other action. Wincing, even with the tenative help of his war enemy, he stood and collapsed onto the bed. 

Once the pilot was settled in under the silk sheets, he fell into a slumber that would impress the comatose.

Treize smiled at the boy, then left the room to attend to the business of running a war.

* * * * * 

'Mhmph... Warm...' Were his first "coherent" thoughts. Never had he felt quite so... Well... Warm and fuzzy and... Safe... Something about that last wasn't _quite_ right. He sighed, deciding that such matters were not really so pressing after all.

He felt a cool hand run through his hair and he absent-mindedly stretched up towards the motion and wrinkled his nose when the hand disappeared.

'Mhmph..." He raised a sleep-clumsy hand to his eyes, scrubbing them roughly. He then opened his eyes to see... Blankets. He mumbled incoherently while pushing back the offending material. He blinked lazily at the man sitting on the edge of the bed in which he was currently snuggled. His brain lurched dully, trying to paste picture with name. He sat bolt up in bed, wincing slightly at the pain emanating from his stomach and chest. "Khushrenada..." He spat out.

"Yes." He stood up, rubbing his shoulder. "You've been asleep for approximately twelve hours."

"You..."

"Caught you?" He prompted.

"Saved..."  
"Well..." He turned back to his patient. "Why do you think it was so easy, getting into the corps, I mean? I wanted to see how good you were. I never expected to start..." He whirled back around, cutting off his sentence.

"You... Bandaged me..."

"Yes."

"Why?"

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "It's complicated. It really is. You... Spared my life. There are not a lot of people who would do that."

"It wouldn't have been honourable." He twisted a lock of his hair around his finger absent-mindedly [8].

"That's just it!" He turned back to the bed. "There's very little justice left in the world."

"True honour is hard to find." He drew his knees to his chest and rested his head on them.

"When you find it, you'll do _anything_ to preserve it..." He sat down on the edge of the bed. "War... Loses its meaning. Nothing is more important that honour and justice."

The door slid open to reveal a young soldier. "Sir."

Wufei shrank back, but was stopped by a hand placed on his knee. 

Treize stood up. "Yes?"

"There's a slight problem..."  
"Can it wait, Zechs?"

"Treize, some of the cadets are threatening to talk about... Things if we don't... Rectify the problem." 

"Do I _honestly_ have to go down there and scare the fear of the gods into them?!!"

"Shall I give them the usual?"

"Quite. If that doesn't work, have Une dres in a duck suit [9]."

"You have quite a weird sense of humour." He shook his head and walked back out.

A moment passed.

"Is my being here a problem?" Wufei asked quietly.

Treize didn't answer. "You want a bath, or something?"

Wufei nodded slightly.

Treize smiled lightly, stood up, and walked to and through the door to the bathroom.

He heard the sound of running water and Treize muttering under his breath. Somehow, in some strange way, this amused hi greatly. He hid his bemused expression as the man returned.

"Can you walk?"

"I... Don't know." He swung his legs over the side of the bed. Moving slowly, he shifted his weight to his feet and promptly crumpled halfway to the floor.

Fortunately for Wufei, Treize caught him as he fell, frowning at the obvious pain the young man was in. He half-carried the pilot into the bathroom, not heeding his incoherent grumbling. "I trust you can undress yourself?" He deposited the negligible weight of his burden on the edge of the half-below floor level bathtub. 

Wufei blushed and nodded, waiting for the other man to leave before he, slowly and painfully, disrobed and lowered himself tenderly into the embrace fhte warm water. 

Still moving slowly, he began to scrub, feeling the layers of grime wear off. He groaned as he realized fully the true extent of his injuries.

Without fully comprehending the fact, his eyes began to droop and he fell silently into slumber.

That was exactly how Treize found him near to a half-hour later. Smiling slightly at the sleeping pilot, he pulled him out of the water, wrapped him in a warm, soft blanket, and carried him to the bed, tucking him in the soft layers and sitting back to wait.

* * * * * 

This time, Wufei woke up all at once, jumping violently as a 'click' resounded from the door, which slid open. 

A man stepped through the new opening. He put one finer to his lips, effectively silencing the wary pilot. "How're you feeling?" He whispered while perching on the edge of the bed [10].

He shrugged. "Been worse. Merquise, is it?"

"Call me Zechs. How long has he been asleep?" He gestured towards his slumbering superior. 

"I don't know; he must have fallen asleep a while after me."

"You know you are one lucky bastard."

He frowned, a deeply puzzled look on his face. "What do you mean?"

"He's taken a liking to you. I know a _lot_ of people who'd _die_ to be in your spot." He smiled painfully and began to leave the room. "Don't break his heart, I'll be the first to know and you'll never walk out of this compound alive." The OZ protégée left the room.

'_He_ likes _me_?!!" His mind reeled. On one level, it made sense... But... Why? His mind turned to the fact that the man in question was waking up.

"Mhmph..." Treize turned his head and woke up quietly. "How are you feeling? You look less stressed."

"Is it true?"

Treize's eyes snapped up to focus on the other's. "Is _what_ true?"

"Merqui... Zechs told me that... You had... _Feelings_ for me, so to speak." He coughed forcefully and bit his lip.

"How much would you hate me if I lied?"

"It wouldn't be very _honourable_ of you. But if you fell that... You would be _hurt_ by it... You don't have to say."

"Would you hate me if I said 'yes'?"

"I think I'd be more upset... If you said 'no'."

He thought on that one. He'd imagined the young man to have some sort of violent out-burst or something... _Anything_ but _this_...

There was an awkward silence.

"Why don't you hate me?" Treize asked quietly.

"Because..." He fiddled with the bandage on his left wrist. "I think I feel the same way..."

There was another awkward silence.

"Do you mind if I...?" He moved towards the bed.

He paused. He shook his head.

"Good." He stretched out beside his former enemy and gathered him into his arms.

"What do we tell the others? What if someone walks in?" 

"Well, they don't need to know. And, besides Zechs, _I'm_ the only one who can open that door."

"Zechs... He's...?

"My best friend." He laughed lightly. "Do I sense a little _jealousy_?"

"Hmmm... Yeah. I'm _very_ possessive." He smiled up at him. 

"You need to do that more often."

"Do what?"

"Smile. I don't think you do that very often."

"Haven't had much to smile about lately."

"Now you will... I hope."

"Oh, most certainly." He snuggled further into the warm embrace.

They stayed that way for the rest of the night. 

* * * * * 

He woke up slowly, one part of his brain at a time. "Mhmph..." Realizing that e was warm and in the arms of the object of his affection, he closed his eyes again. 'I could get used to this.'

* * * * * 

The soft 'click' woke him immediately, while his bed-partner slumbered on, oblivious. He sat up gingerly, mindful of his still-sore wounds.

"The cleaning staff will be here in twenty minutes. You'd better go. There is a twelve-second lapse in our security system at precisely 7:37.37 AM. A transport is abandoned in hanger A-19. The code is 4-3-9-6-7-1-2." He turned to leave.

"Merquise..." He verbally stopped his exit. "Why?"

"He's happy. He feels safe. He's never let his guard down that much except around... One other person. I like seeing him happy." The OZ soldier smiled slightly, then whirled around and left.

He sighed heavily, then dragged himself out of the bed. Realizing that his previous wardrobe, as bloody and dirty as it was, would draw unwanted attention, he turned to a walk-in closet. Drawing out a white cotton shirt and black sweat-pants, he quickly put them on, grimacing as he saw how baggy they were due to his short stature.

He scribbled a note at the desk, took one last look from whence he came, and crept out of the room.

* * * * * 

"Mhmph..." He seriously disliked waking up alone. Something he'd suffered through for altogether _too_ long, in his never-to-be-humble opinion. But, hopefully, with this new change in his personal affairs would lessen the chances of that occurrence taking place...

"Wait, rewind... Play again..." He wrinkled his forehead. "Oh _shit_! I can't believe I _did_ that!" He sat up and shook his head. 

"Probably _hates_ me now..." He stood up, groaning inwardly at his stupidity.

Drawing a bath, he discarded his clothes and flopped into the warm water. 

His silent reverie was interrupted by a knock at the bath-room door.

"Come in, Merquise." 

The man opened the door while chuckling. "How did you know it was me?"

"There are only four people who can get in this room. You and I are two of them and it's approximately four minutes, 52.3 seconds before the cleaning crew comes in. So, by process of elimination, it _must_ be you."

He walked in and sat on the counter.

"So, what's the run-down on the day?" He splashed a hand-full of water over his hair.

"8:00 AM: A world-consulate meeting. Our stance, unsuspicious, undecided by-standers. We are supporting all humanitarian consulates this time. Expected elapsed time: 4 hours. Une will want to talk to you before that, as always. 11:00 AM: Meeting for the trial of the fifteen cadets accused with insubordination. Expected elapsed time, 6 hours. That will take up to your 5:00 PM meeting with the Federation. Little to no preparation is required. You will, as usual, be provided with note-cards researched by myself, again, as usual. Expected elapsed time, 6 hours. 11:30 PM: Closing remarks for the cadets. Note-cards provided, again, by myself. Expected elapsed time, 20 minutes. 12:10 AM: Closing statements for the scientists at the base. Your role, stand there and look awake. Expected time elapsed, 15 minutes. 12:30 AM: Expected time of departure from hanger B-13." He sighed, having completed the schedule he'd pain-stakingly memorized. "Oh, and... Uhm... _He_ left this for you."

Treize took the paper extended to him. He read it, then handed it back to the Lieutenant. "Burn it."

"Bad news?" He looked truly concerned for his superior.

He closed his eyes and smiled. "No."

"Good." He set the paper on fire with a pocket-lighter, then tossed the flaming note into the metal trash-can. "'Cause I'd really _hate_ to have to chase him down and beat the crap out of him."

"As if he hadn't _already_ been brutally attacked once in the past 36 hours." He commented dryly.

"Quite right, point conceded. Damn it! You _always_ win these verbal spars!"

"Quite right, Lieutenant. I would have thought you could have won this one, since you lost both sword and gun-work."

He twirled a strand of his white-blond hair around his finger. "I thought the gun-work was a draw..." His comm-unit went off. "Damn... I have to go. But you _didn't _ win this one!"

"Did too." He scrubbed at his jaw.

"Did not!" He slid off the counter and headed towards the door.

"Did too."

"Did not!!!" He escaped from the room before Treize could reply.

"Did... Too." Treize sighed as he realized he'd lost... Not that he'd every admit it, but he _had_ lost. "Damn cocky idiot... But, the day hasn't been a total loss. I won something better." He half-smiled and sunk back in the water. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

[1] Rei-chan: Yay! Field-trip!

Mad: Not _literally_, you idiot! *Thumps upside the head*

Rei-chan: Aw... *Looks upset*

[2] Rei-chan: Ha! Yeah, right! You're just _weak_!

Wufei: What?!! I am _not_ weak, you stupid little... Girl!!!

Rei-chan: At least I'm not a weak _boy_!

Wufei: Injustice! *Chases her around the room*

[3] Rei-chan: Don't those two kinda imply the same thing?

Mad: Quiet, stupid girl!

Wufei: Ha! I win! *Does slightly goofy victory dance*

Mad: No, you're _wrong_! Sit down before I write you into a _straight_ fic!

Wufei: *Immediately sits* Yes, ma'am.

[4] Mad: I never can quite remember what rank people are at any given moment during the show...

Wufei: Stupid...

Mad: *Cuts him off* I thought I told you be _quiet_.

Wufei: Yes, you did... *Grumbles to self*

[5] Mad: How he knows this with his eyes closed is beyond my comprehension.

Wufei: I have ESP.

Mad: No, you don't.

Wufei: Oh.

[6] Wufei: You _fool_!!! I have unknown mental powers!

Mad: No, you _don't_!

Wufei: *Glares at Mad*

Mad: *Lightning strikes her* Okay, okay, you win! Verdict?

Others: *Confer among themselves*

Zechs: *Holds up sign that reads, "The people acknowledge Wufei as possessing secret mental powers"*

Wufei: *Looks smug*

[7] Wufei: You made me say _WHAT_?!!

[8] Wufei: I do _not_ twirl my hair around my finger! *Reaches hand halfway to hair*Realizes what he is doing*Snatches hand back*

Rei-chan: Ha ha ha! Narf.

[9] Treize: *Tries _very _hard not to laugh*

[10] Rei-chan: Perch... Ha ha ha! He's a bird!

Zechs: Am not!

Rei-chan: Are _too_! Verdict!!!

Others: *Confer*

Wufei: *Holds up sign that reads, "Eats like bird + Has a mask that looks like bird + Perches like bird = Zechs Merquise _is_, beyond the shadow of a doubt, a bird"*

Zechs: Damn!


	2. ... And So Forth ...

A Dance for Two:

... And So Forth ...

By: Madisonne

Part: 2/? of 'A Dance for Two'

Warnings: Yaoi, adventure (?), sap

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing because if I did, I'd have a boy friend! :-P! No infringement on the rights of the owners of said anime intended. Don't sue me, suing isn't nice. As for the fic, don't steal it! Criticism accepted (feed me feedback!!!), flames laughed at. 

Notes: Please please PLEASE review!!!!!! I know what I want to do with this, but I'll need review-power to get it all out!

: A very special 'thanks' goes out to the wonderful Saturn who reviewed even though Treize and Wufei weren't exactly her idea of a perfect pair! We should all bow down to her for inspiring me to continue the fic! Yay, happy reviewer! :-D

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He grimaced again as a thorn caught onto and tore at the ankle of his pants. 'Damn him to all hells with his stupid rose fetish...' He grumbled inwardly. Shaking his leg lightly to disattach himself, he continued up the lattice.

Fortunately, the window to which he was climbing had been opened to let in the cool evening air. Reaching the target, he tumbled into the room.

'Oh _shit _[1]...' He thought, taking in the rows upon rows of bookcases over-flowing with books of all shapes and sizes. 

"You know, you could've just walked in the front door like any other normal person." A voice tinged with sarcasm intoned.

He reached for his gun.

"Now _that's_ not very nice, Wufei. Or smart either. You should know that killing an army's prized Lieutenant is quite... For lack of a better word, stupid."

"I don't want to play any of your verbal games, Merquise." He sighed, standing all the way up. 

"I see you've been talking about me with him. Don't I feel special." The sound of a book snapping shut preceded the appearance of the man behind the voice, stepping out from one of the rows. "I'm not foolish enough to think you came all the way here just to banter with me, so why don't I show you the way to where you really want to be?" He waved for him to follow and set off down the library aisle.

"I might surprise you..." He quietly jested.

He whirled back around and looked at him as if deciding something. "You'll do." He turned back around and continued out of the library and down the hall.

They reached an ornately decorated door. "Here you are." Zechs turned to leave.

"Wait! How do I get in?" Wufei asked. "You and Treize are the only people on the scanner."

"He added you. It's a sign of trust." This time he walked away before Wufei could ask any more questions. 

Shaking his head at the puzzle that was Zechs Merquise, he turned to the door and patiently stood still for the retina scan. A mechanical chime sounded and the double doors slid open. 

Moving cautiously, he slid into and scoped out the room before standing to his full height and orienting himself.

Apparently some happy-go-lucky person had decorated the room. Not only was every piece of furniture upholstered in a pristine white, but also on every table was placed an ornate vase over-flowing with blood-red and snow coloured roses. 

He turned from the sight and continued on into an adjacent room. Right away he saw the calm touch of the man he sought. Everything in the room was necessary, but nothing more. The closet, for example, on further inspection proved to be categorised by colour and style. Truly, the room followed the old cliche "a place for everything and everything in its place". Such utilitarianism did not surprise him however, it was the true reflection of the occupant's personal quirks.

There was one thing out of place, however. A folded note on the side table. 

Feeling rather guilty, he picked up the note. 

The match wasn't an entire loss, no matter what you say. We had to finish what was so foolishly begun... You _didn't_ win this one, though. It's about time someone showed you how fencing is _really_ done, especially since your friend is quite fond of the form; I'd hate to see you lose to _him_. Zechs

He dropped the letter as the guilt for reading such a personal narrative on such a personal subject got to him. It wasn't as if he was actually around enough to understandably become jealous and possessive.

Deciding to leave before getting himself into more trouble, he passed on to another door. This led to a large, lavish bathroom. The focal point of the room was the floor-level bathtub (which actually looked more like a small swimming pool).

He realized that it could be a while before the General returned, and, with that in mind, he drew water for a bath. Adding goop from various bottles, he saw the water convert to foam and scented liquid in front of his amused eyes. 

Growing impatient while waiting for the tub to fill, he left the room through a different door. A corridor of doors opened onto a stately-looking room.

He went into the room, slightly curious. A large desk stood silhouetted against closed, full-height, double glass doors. There were a few side tables with lamps and a couple of standing lamps were placed strategically around the room. The walls were covered with maps containing pencil and pen marks. 

He clicked on a set of switches, resulting in the ceiling lighting up and a thin piece of glass lowering from a compartment in the middle of the room. It stopped at slightly above his waist and he stared at it, uncomprehending. Suddenly, it dawned on him; half of it was a map of the colonies, the other half was covered in cryptic writing. This was where some of the war's most horrible atrocities were thought up.

He quickly began to decipher it, noting that the General must not trust even his own men for the majority of the writing was in old Sanskrit and Farrcee. 

All of the sudden, he heard a female voice out-side of the room. 

Frantic for a hiding place, he ducked under the massive desk, curling up to use up the least amount of space possible.

"But, sir..." The lady's voice pleaded over the sound of the door opening and people entering.

"No, I said _no_! What part of that did you not understand?!!" The man whom he sought answered angrily.

"You have no way of proving your concerns!"

He stalked over behind the desk and sat down heavily. "_No_, god damn it! I will not run the risk of causing the deaths of thousands of innocent civilians. Find some other way or give up on the project!"

"It's impossible to find them! They're trained to be illusive!" She screamed back at him.

"Then find a way to defeat them _without_ blowing up half a city!" He shot back, just as angrily.

"Sir, permission to speak candidly, sir?'

"Granted." He folded his hands on his desk.

"If we don't act now, we may never find them again!"

"Then, perhaps, they deserve to win. I really don't wish to discuss this further. Please leave."

The woman sighed. "Yes, sir." Her steps belied her exit.

He waited until she'd cleared the room before standing up and stepping back from the desk. "That hardly seems a comfortable hiding spot..."

Moving slowly, Wufei crawled back out from under the cherry desk. He stood up, staring unblinking at the man in front of him who smiled slightly back. Biting his lip, he threw himself into the unsuspecting yet willing arms of his should-be enemy. Sniffling lightly, he managed to choke out, "Thank you so much."

He smiled understandingly and embraced the pilot. "It was the _only_ think to do. I _am_ still human, you know."

"I know."

"I take it the rose bushes didn't agree with you." He commented on the torn clothes. "They're usually quite friendly."

"That's 'cause they take off the thorns before they get placed into your rooms." He snapped jokingly.

"Hate to ruin the moment, but... Is there water running?"

"Shit!" Wufei smacked himself on the forehead and ran out of the room.

Slightly amused both at the unusually strong language and the hurried exit, he followed the sprinting pilot. Once in the bathroom, he understood the reason for rushing; the other had entered just in time to shut off both faucets mere centimetres before the tub over-flowed. 

"Planning to drown me in my own bathtub? Doesn't sound quite civilised to me..."

The pilot stuck his tongue out at his elder. "I smell horrible. I assumed you wouldn't mind."

"Of course not; be my guest." He bowed ironically and turned his back politely.

Stripping his clothes of quickly, he lowered himself into the relaxingly hot water. "Oh, you _seriously_ know how to live!"

He laughed warmly and turned back around. "Well, leading an army _does_ have its perks."

"I could get used to this."  
He sat at the edge of the tub. "You _could_ stay." He caressed the side of _his_ pilot's face. "Hide here."  
He brushed away the comforting hand while sloshing another palmful of water over his head. "We both know that's impossible."

"Someday, maybe." He turned back away. "There are so many things I wish I could change."

"Treize..." He sighed. "I know. But there's simply nothing either of us can do." He rubbed a handful of goo into his hair and scrubbed it, slightly absent-mindedly.

He took over the task, running the surprisingly long locks through his fingers gently. "I didn't think you'd come back."

"And miss _this_ treatment?" He scoffed. "Hardly."

He chuckled. "I'm glad you did."

Wufei ducked under the water for a second. Remerging, he spoke, "So am I."

Treize smiled in response. "Good."

"Hand me a towel, would you?'

He yanked a towel off of the rack and handed it to the drenched, but clean, pilot. He then turned away again, giving the most ferocious, most honourable man he knew some privacy.

"Since your rose-bushes seemed to have taken a liking to my clothes, could I borrow some from you?"

"Well of course." He left and returned quickly, his arms full of clothes. "Here, try these." He gave the pilot a stack of various pants and shirts.

He pulled on black pants, a white shirt, and a grey sweater, all of which were quite noticeably too large on his shorter frame. He handed back the extras. "Thank you."

Turning back around, Treize snorted in amusement at the over-sized clothes.

"What?"

He shook his head. "You're cute."

He wrinkled his nose at him. "If you were anyone else, you would be _dead_ by now."

Treize chuckled. "I don't doubt it." He grabbed a brush off of the counter. "Come on, I'll brush your hair for you." He headed out the door with the pilot on his heels. Sitting on a cushy armchair, he motioned for Wufei to sit in front of him on the floor and when he did, he ran the brush through the silky black hair. "It's funny..."

"Hmmm?"

"I always thought of you as a quiet person. You certainly were not this talkative when you were masquerading, quite well, I might add, as a cadet here."

"I guess I just have to be in the right surroundings." 

"And what, pray tell, might those be?"

He was silent for a moment. "I have to feel safe."

His hand stopped pulling on the brush. "I'm glad that you trust me enough to feel safe here."

He stood up and fluffed his long hair. "And, you have a way of making people act strangely." He flopped down in the same chair, sitting side-ways on his elder's lap.

Treize put his arms around his small companion. "God damn war... If it weren't happening, we could spend forever like this." He sighed heavily. "I used to think war was beautiful, but now I've found something better worth living for."

"Hey, don't go all gushy on me. It's not all _that_ bad." He lied blatantly. "It could be worse; one of us could be dead." He attempted to jest.

"Oh, gods! I hadn't even _thought_ of that! I'd be... Lost without you!" He sighed again. "This whole thing would be _so_ much easier had we never met!"

Wufei stood up at that. "You... _Regret_ this?"

He stood up and had the younger man in his arms in seconds. "No, not ever could I regret this! You're the best thing that has ever happened to me!"

"Good. Don't you _ever_ scare me like that again!"

"Or what?" He jested lightly.

"I'll feed you to your own rose bushes!"

"You'd have a hard time explaining _that_ one to Une or Zechs."

He shuddered. "They'd _eat_ me!" He turned very solemn. "Does Zechs hate me for something?"

"No, heavens no! Well, I don't _think_ he does... I think he's just being overly protective and is afraid that I could get hurt." He sat back down, drawing the other young man with him.

"I wouldn't hurt you."

"I know you wouldn't. _He _ just doesn't know that." He laced his arms comfortably around the other and they stayed just that way for a long time. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

[1] Wufei: I do _not_ curse!

Rei-chan: Do too!

Wufei: Do not!

Rei-chan: Do too!

Wufei: Kisama, you stupid girl! I do not -CENSORED-ing curse!

[2] Duo: That's pretty stupid, I mean, for all you know there's a horde of angry soldiers there. Anybody else would have had the common sense to _run_!

Wufei: Running from a potential fight is weak. *Looks smug*

Others: *Confer*Hold up sign, The people think Wufei was foolish not to run from his possible death*

Wufei: It's rigged, I tell you!

[3] Rei-chan: Flowers? You have _flowers_?!! I'm _so_ jealous! *Goes for the ornamental set pieces*

Madisonne: No! Bad Rei-chan, bad! *Smiles apologetically to cast* She's obsessed. *Hands Rei-chan a sippy-cup* Now go sit in your chair and drink your juice.

Rei-chan: *Pouts*Goes to chair and sips juice mournfully*

[4] Rei-chan: "Our play's not done, oh no, not quite, for life _never_ ends in the moon-light night and, despite what pretty poets say, the night _is_ only half the day. So, we would like to truly finish what was so foolishly begun for life is never finished and the play is _never_ done until we've all been burned a bit and burnished by... The sun!" *Pauses dramatically* What?!! Don't you all get the connection? 'The Fantasticks'?!!

Others: *Makes crazy sign*

Rei-chan: *Sighs*Drinks from sippy-cup*

* * * * * * 

Please review, pweeeeathe?!! I'd love you forever and forever! Well, not... _Forever_, but long enough to jump up and down and be inspired to write more! ;-D


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